The Stolen Tales of a Vagabond

"Here's a story my father told me while we walked across the Limani desert. There was once a vagabond, thin and frail, drained and incapable. He wore his hood despite the swelter of that same desert. The boots he wore were battered, decrepit. The thought of banishing himself into the underworld came to his mind a many times, for it was the logical outcome of his choices. However, his legacy forbade him to commit such travesty. For he had a gift.

"He could steal the stories of heroes and villains, killers and victims, gods and plebeians. Passed down through the memory, I sit here to tell you of his stolen tales. Why? Because I suffered through that journey, and it's only fitting I have my tales heard from my own voice."